


Destinations

by Oceanbourne



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Thracia 776
Genre: Gen, I haven't seen much Reinhardt stuff for how notorious he is in heroes, and both him and olwen are fun to write, so I decided to try writing him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 05:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12599200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbourne/pseuds/Oceanbourne
Summary: Reinhardt had always told her that what was important wasn’t the rewards one received for their accomplishments, but the path one walked to get there.





	Destinations

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back to writing some FE stuff. This has some spoilers for Thracia 776, so be warned.
> 
> I've been fortunate to pull both Reinhardt and Olwen in Heroes and I'm on my way to making a second horse team, so I imagine the process goes something like this.

Her brother moves about the Askran kingdom’s halls as if each footstep was a mighty wave crashing against the shore.

The crowd notices his entrance at once, and seems to recede along the walls to give him space to walk. Olwen notices the nods of deference, the respect given. Her brother finds one of his peers, Camus, the knight of Grust, in the hallway; they exchange pleasantries, and as Camus joins him on his walk they disappear behind a corner.

In Friege, Reinhardt’s appointment as commander of the Gelben Ritter did not come as a surprise to anyone who had witnessed the thunder mage at work. Unmatched in either magical prowess or military strategy, he neither showed off his talent nor tried to hide it. He was the perfect fit for a general with which to flex Friege’s military muscle, and so attracted the attention of Duke Bloom, who appointed Reinhardt as his daughter’s personal guard. There was hardly a soul in Friege who did not recognize Reinhardt’s name.

Their arrival into the Order of Heroes did not come with the same fanfare. Olwen expected herself to go unnoticed, but in their world, her brother was nothing short of a military legend. She had no doubt that someone of his skill would be recognized in a realm where people lauded the tales from myriad other lands. The Hero-King, the Radiant Hero - her brother would fit in.

But where the Askran court often whispered to each other in the halls about the legendary heroes of Archanea, or Elibe, or Tellius, no one seemed to know anything about Jugdral, let alone the dukedom of Friege. Olwen realizes that shouldn’t be surprising - if there is anything to take note of from their continent, it is the Crusades that happened around the time that she was in Thracia.

So she and Reinhardt take their places among the ranks of Askr, two among many, figuring it can’t be too different from any other army. The battles she participates in to free captive heroes from the contract of the Emblian Empire remind her of her time serving under Leif. She doesn’t see her brother much, but he seems to return from every battle with a subtle satisfaction. He tells Olwen it’s an unfamiliar sensation to live without a heavy weight on his shoulders.

Olwen’s glad. They’ve grown apart since the war for Thracia’s liberation, but she wonders if, by this strange twist of fate, the different circumstances this world provides will change anything.  _ Another life _ , she thinks.  _ Another chance. _

Reinhardt certainly makes the most out of it.

It comes as suddenly as a flash of lightning in the middle of a storm. Her brother rises through the ranks here, too. He leads hundreds of squadrons to victory against Emblian forces, and then it is his name that is on the lips of both nobles and other summoned heroes alike. Olwen can scarcely count a day where her brother’s name did not come up in conversation. It reminds her of the days when people likened him to the second coming of Thrud the crusader.

Her brother takes it in stride. Fame and glory were never achievements he pursued. Reinhardt had always told her that what was important wasn’t the rewards one received for their accomplishments, but the path one walked to get there.

Reinhardt had chosen one way. Olwen had chosen another. She thought that was the end of it, that they would arrive at different destinations. But here they were, brought through time and space to the same world. The world that seemed black and white didn’t look so clear to her anymore.

She sits in an armchair in the royal library, the pages of a treatise on strategy open before her. A person’s life was vast, with a thousand times more choices to make than a commander on a battlefield. Olwen wonders if, because of all those possibilities, opposite paths still lead to the same destination.

“Hello, Olwen.”

She looks up. Reinhardt stands in front of her, a copy of the Dire Thunder tome in his hand. He must have just recently turned from an outing.

“Brother.” Olwen’s lips curve up into a nervous smile. She gestures to the seat across from her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“The Askran commander keeps us busy,” Reinhardt agrees, sitting down. “There are plenty of new lands to survey and armies to fight against. A massive operation for a place so self-contained.”

Olwen nods. “Everything here is so… lively.”

“Hm.” Her brother shifts in his seat. “Yes, that’s an apt way of putting it.”

They sit in a tense silence for a few seconds, and Olwen notices that she’s kept a hand on the open tome. She moves to put it away, but Reinhardt notices and recognition crosses his face.

“Preparing for your first mission as leader of a squadron, I see. Some congratulations are in order. I’d wondered when they’d begin to notice you.” His eyes are usually dark and stern, but today they look a shade lighter.

“Oh! You knew about that?” She had meant to tell him about it. Olwen wondered where he had gotten the information - she hadn’t spoken to anyone about it besides Titania, one of the cavalry units who would be joining her on that mission.

“Commander Anna spoke to me about deploying other teams of cavalry with strategies similar to the methods my unit uses.” Reinhardt draws his chair closer to the table. “She was intrigued to know that I had a sister who utilizes the same magic tomes I do. ‘If Olwen is anything like you, the Emblians are done for!’”

Olwen’s heard the comparisons between her and her brother hundreds of times, but it doesn’t stop the small twitch in her leg every time someone brings it up. “And what did you tell her?”

Reinhardt smiles - a rare gesture from someone like him, and his smiles are difficult to notice. “I humored her. I said, ‘Let’s just say that the power of thunder you see from me is nowhere near its full potential.’”

A fact clothed in gentle flattery. She knows the tactic from the many times he has used it to maneuver treacherous conversations with Grannvale nobles, but it doesn’t feel like a political ploy with her. Reinhardt had been one of her teachers of magic, and he wasn’t one to conceal what he thought of her progress.

“It’s a little daunting,” Olwen admits. “I’ve been in charge of units before, but we were all little more than cadets in the army. Now my allies are great heroes from all over the realms... To actually ride alongside them…”

“I understand,” is all Reinhardt says. Then, “The scouts say that the newest world that has appeared to us is one that resembles Jugdral. Our own land.”

“Really?” Olwen isn’t exactly homesick, but a part of her wonders if she’ll ever step foot in Friege again. Its rulers hadn’t been the most liked, or the kindest, or the wisest, but it was still home.

“It would appear so. Grannvale, Verdane, Thracia. Familiar sights. I would be happy to see them again.”

“I’d like to go back too, even for a minute,” Olwen admits.

“Does that put you more at ease?” Reinhardt asks.

Olwen smiles. “It does. Though, I know just reminiscing won’t do much good when it comes to the actual battlefield. I just thought… well, when your brother has one of the greatest track records in the Order of Heroes, it wouldn’t hurt to ask for some advice.”

Her brother chuckles, and Olwen lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

“You’re looking to play one of those tactics games with me, aren’t you?” There’s a twinkle in his eye and a weightlessness in his voice, a joviality Olwen hasn’t heard from him in a while.

She wrings her hands, pulling up a sleeve. “As a child, one of my goals was to beat you at least once,” she says.

“That day may be fast approaching,” Reinhardt muses. He stares at the table for a second before continuing. “There are new weapons and units that we’ve come across in our time here that we haven’t seen back home. Plenty of material to create new situations for you.” He puts a hand to his chin. “This could be quite exciting.”

Olwen straightens up, and reaches into her bag for a sheet of paper. She hands it to Reinhardt. “I’m ready for anything you throw at me.”

He picks up a quill from a container on the desk and begins to write. Olwen diverts her eyes as he sets up the situation, looking out of the library window into the courtyard. Several heroes walk through the gardens or sit in the grass, conversing with each other.

After several minutes, Reinhardt clears his throat and Olwen turns back to the table. On the parchment, her brother has sketched the rudimentary setup of a battlefield, with the placements of two opposing armies situated on either side of a river.

“You have the first move,” Reinhardt tells her. He sits back in his chair, looking expectantly. “Go on. I want to see how much you’ve learned."


End file.
